


Fight the Good Fight

by butterflybaby91



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: American Revolution, Hanging, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflybaby91/pseuds/butterflybaby91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys are a team of spies but then Enjolras gets caught</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight the Good Fight

Grantaire snuck into the prisoner tent after dark and clapped a hand over Enjolras’ mouth before he could cry out as the brunette startled him. The blonde still jumped though and Grantaire quickly swung around him so that they were face to face—Enjolras quit struggling the minute he met Grantaire’s eyes, “It’s just me,” Grantaire whispered and Enjolras’ fierce blue eyes softened slightly at the sight of him.

When Grantaire moved his hand, Enjolras’ eyes darted to the tent opening before demanding, “What are you doing here?” in an urgent whisper.

Grantaire gently brushed a stray curl that was hanging in Enjolras’ eye, back behind his ear as the other man could not reach it with his hands tied behind his back, “I had to see you one last time before,” he took a deep breath, struggling to continue over the lump in his throat, “before tomorrow morning.”

He let out a harsh hushed laugh, “How could you let yourself get caught Enjolras—what happened?” Grantaire felt like crying, but he knew he had to hold himself together for Enjolras’ sake.

Enjolras shrugged as best he could, “I was doing my job Grantaire—we knew this was bound to happen sooner or later; are the others safe?” he inquired with sudden urgency.

Grantaire nodded, “They are—scrambling to try and figure out a way to save you—but… but we couldn’t figure out how to get you and someone else past all the redcoats surrounding you,” he grimaced, “I just barely managed to get in here.”

“And you better leave soon or they’ll catch you too,” Enjolras said with sudden realization, even as his face crumpled at the thought.

Grantaire felt his stomach drop as he realized this was likely to be the last time he ever spoke with the blonde sitting before him, who was the only reason he was even involved in this spy ring, who was the only reason he was not drowned in the bottom of a bottle somewhere. He gulped, and tried his best to suck air into his lungs, but they did not seem to want to cooperate instead seeming to constrict even tight as he struggled to get words out of his mouth, “I know,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut tight against the idea of leaving Enjolras for good.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras whispered, causing the brunette to look at him again, “It’s alright you know? I’m happy to go this way—fighting for this new country—it’s the right way to go, so be happy for me, if you can,” he pleaded, eyes desperately searching Grantaire’s face for something, what exactly, Grantaire wasn’t sure, but he nodded and wrapped his arms tightly around Enjolras, before ducking out of the tent and hurrying away as inconspicuously as he had come.

\--

The next morning dawned clear and bright as the British soldiers led Enjolras from the tent to a waiting tree and gallows, rope hanging, waiting to be slipped around his slim neck. Enjolras held his head high, and if he was scared it did not show on his face, as his friends all watched anxiously from the edge of the crowded, trying their best to blend in, but not wanting to miss their leader’s final moments.

They led Enjolras onto the platform and offered him a blindfold which he vehemently denied, muttering something about wanting to leave the world seeing freedom dawning on the horizon, loud enough for those in the front of the crowd to hear.

Loud enough for the brunette at the very middle, right by the foot of the gallows, to hear.

As the hangman asked Enjolras if he had any last words, he cautiously took a step forward, hindered slightly by the rope already round his neck and he faced the crowd, crying out words of freedom and rebellion that had the redcoats guarding the proceeding grimacing and tightening their grip on their guns. Just as it looked like the guards were going to stop his impromptu speech, Enjolras backed up again and finished with, “I regret that I have but one life to give for my country,” and then nodded solemnly at the hangman.

Just as they were about to let the trapdoor swing, a voice cried out from the crowd, “Wait!” and Grantaire rushed up onto the gallows, ignoring the murmurs of the crowd and the look of abject horror that appeared on Enjolras’ face, “If you kill him you’ll have to kill me too—I am one of the rebels,” he declared and stepped forward to take Enjolras’ outstretched hand.

“What are you doing?” Enjolras muttered as the British guards looked at each other in confusion. As it became clear the Grantaire was not going to move, they shrugged and set about quickly creating another noose.

“The same thing you are,” Grantaire informed him as the noose was fitted around his neck as well, “dying for what I believe in.”

Enjolras’ smile remained even as the floor beneath them was released. 


End file.
